"I'm surprised you followed me Natasha." His expression is far from agitated more focused on helping that little girl. It's almost as if he is happy that he wasn't left alone, though Bruce was not about to admit it.
She trails behind him in just as much of a panic, "Why are you still under the impression I'm going to abandon you?"
The doctor pulls open the door permitting the Russian to enter first. The couple swarm to the counter, "We need to speak with Mr. Vasin,' she flashes an identification, 'I need access to room 418 emergency for his step-daughter Izabella."
The woman behind the desk flips through papers handing her the key, "Here Miss Natalie Rushman. Good luck."
The couple dash from the roaming the hallways, Bruce whispers, "Natalie Rushman?"
She shrugs her shoulder as they enter the elevator, "It's a cover. You don't think I let everyone call me 'Natasha' do you?"
He enters the numbers, "I guess not."
The doors close as she looks over her notes from Fury's phone call reading aloud, "After Mrs. Vasin was robbed of her fortune she was killed, Mr. Vasin was convicted of the murder but pleaded innocent, the young girl was found in their home after the event, multiple bruises and scrapes. She's Russian, oh! Here you go; simple fracture in her left forearm that's been treated. It says here that she regained conciousness last night before the staff diagnosed her with pneumonia-"
Bruce's eyes are closed trying to breathe from his tense state, "Any record of how long she was unconscious for?"
She shakes her head, "Not on my page."
He holds the side of his face upset with the lack of detail in the notes, "What else is on the page?"
The exit the elevator pacing through the halls as she reads in a whisper, "From pneumonia; she has chest pain, on oxygen, high fever, and she's barely awake. Izabella is on intravenous antibiotics."
They glance over the numbers, "Anything else Miss-uh, Rushman?"
"No caretakers have been reached because of the situation, so doctor's don't want to touch her because of bloody lawsuits, which is why Fury called. Whoever killed her mother is obviously after the little girl too. Think you can help heal her big guy?"
They approach the door as she hands him the key. His eyes are wide mulling over what he needs to do, "How old is she?"
"Five years old."
He's startled as they enter the room. Could she have told him any sooner? He had on his mind about an eight or nine year old, but five? This was just sad and slightly stressful.
The little girl's bright green eyes fluttered, too scared to say a word. Her short curly hair covered the pillow away from her soft facial features.
Natasha stepped to the side gently taking the little girl's hand. Her voice was tender and caring, just above a whisper, "Preevet Izabella. Menya zoovoot Natalie."
The girl's eyes lit up hearing something in a familiar tongue. She felt comfortable with Natasha's hand on hers, "Preevet Natalie." Her eyes shift towards Bruce who alternated his glance between the papers and his small patient, now wearing his glasses. Izabella addresses Dr. Banner in a soft tone, "Kahk teebiah zauvoot?"
Natasha glances at her friend waiting for him to respond. Bruce concluded they were giving a quick introduction, since he heard names. He stuttered, "Uh- Bruce?"
Natasha looked back at the little girl, "Vwee govah reesyeah panang lesskah?"
Izabella mumbled attempting to answer Natasha's question, "Little."
They shared more words as Natasha carefully rubbed her hand, seated at the chair to the side of Izabella. Romanoff turned back to Bruce, waiting to see what he needed help with. The doctor tenderly checked her IV, her temperature, and her blood pressure, unhappy with each of them. He tried to keep her relaxed and comfortable with a smile and a tender voice even if she didn't understand him, "It's okay Izabella, you'll be alright."
Natasha watches him work, handing her medicine checking her heart rate. He was obviously upset by her bruises, showing her neglect and abuse. Izabella remained still permitting Dr. Banner to stick her when necessary, holding Natasha's hand tight whenever she was uncomfortable rather then screaming or kicking.
He softly laid one hand on her forehead, rested the other on her bed for balance. Izabella gently touched it, wanting him to know she was already feeling better, and that she trusted him. Bruce was slightly startled when he felt her firm touch, but his empathetic instincts were quick to take over. He was in that same boat once, stuck in the hospital with bruises and scars, even pneumonia, still in shock from his own mother's recent murder. He wished he could communicate clearly with the little girl, share some sort of comfort and assure her that everything would be okay. His hand held her hand tighter, expressing his concern and love for the little patient.
Natasha tilted her head watching the small child relax in her painful state. What were the chances she'd be Russian? Is that what Romanoff looked like? About to be dragged to the Red Room to be brainwashed? Was she really that little once? Forcibly left without a mother, without any form of guidance or love. There was something about this girl she loved and connected with. It was such a familiar situation.
Hours passed, eventually leaving Izabella tired and worn from her treatments and rough chest therapy. Through it all, she remained calm holding onto Natasha for comfort and support, listening to Bruce as she barely understood his compassionate words. Even though she was comforted by her 'company', the little girl was all to happy to have finally fell asleep as Natasha hummed a quick song for her.
Romanov checked her pocket for her phone, realizing all too late she had left it with Barton. She kicked herself; It was a Stupid mistake! Not that important, but stupid none the less. Bruce narrowed his eyes noting Izabella's chart as she slept, worn out from her treatment.
Natasha looks up addressing Bruce. His brown eyes are already on hers as she whispers so as not to wake Izabella, "I left my phone with Clint. Think they're wondering where we are?"
He shakes his head at her rookie mistake, "It's okay Miss 'Rushman', we can probably leave soon. Just let me check her vitals again. I have to come back tomorrow though, if you could just tell Fury for me and give him an update when we get back."
"You still can't get over that name thing huh? I'll come with with you tomorrow Bruce."
He holds the wrist of the young woman, his eyes on Natasha, "Are you sure? I feel bad you've been here all day. I mean today was rough-"
She smirks, "I feel just as responsible for the girl as you do. Let's face it, you need a translator. And someone needs to keep an eye out for 'the other guy'."
He smiled looking back down at the file as he felt a warm sensation over his upper cheeks. Natasha blushed herself upon seeing his quick smile. -Focus Nat! Her stare shifts downward leaving a note in Russian for her little friend, "Bruce, can I leave this on the table or something? Or will they arrest me thinking I'm a terrorist."
He gently takes her note leaving it in an obvious place to Izabella to find, "Let me worry about getting arrested Natasha. Your fine."
She tilts her head, "Why? And don't forget, while we're on business, 'Natalie'."
He mumbles under his breath, stands up and throws on his suit jacket, "Nevermind."
Natasha releases a sigh. She figured the mission would bother him. He was probably dyeing to get his hands on whoever hurt the child. She stood up behind him, "Just breathe buddy, everything will be alright. We'll figure it out."
He steps back holding the doors for her, constantly looking around to check her surroundings. He had no idea what was really involved in this mission and she had been so firm about hiding her identity. Bruce had subconsciously made up his mind that nothing would hurt her.
Natasha noticed his eyes glancing around taking in everything and she felt special to be under his 'care' and protection.